Bowling Night
by MitchPell
Summary: Bowling night wasn’t part of the custody agreement.
1. Prologue

Title: Bowling Night

Author: MitchPell

Disclaimer: I don't own anything; however, David Shore and Fox do. I'm just using their stuff for a little bit of non-profitable fun.

Authors Notes: Spoiler warnings for all seasons and episodes, but seasons 4 and 5 will be covered in more detail than the others. I appreciate any and all feedback. Tell me whatever you think: the good, the bad, the ok, the grammar errors, etc… Constructive criticism is always welcome.

Summary: Bowling night wasn't part of the custody agreement.

Email:   


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Prologue

Chase mentally braced himself as he picked up the distinct step-thump-step of House's uneven gait. Terrific, he thought as he pulled the scrub top over his head and tossed it towards the biohazard bag in the corner. Last thing he needed, or rather wanted, at seven o'clock on a Friday night was to be harassed by his previous boss; not when all he really wanted to do was go home, get something to eat, and crawl into bed next to Cameron. But with all things House related it was best to get it over and done with, beside there was no way for him to get out of locker room without getting caught. He was effectively cornered.

Resigning himself to the upcoming encounter, Chase continued to change back into his street clothes as he waited for House to enter the room. "I heard Kutner cured you of your syphilis," he deadpanned as a greeting, deciding to be preemptive. "Congratulations on getting rid of your STD." His tone was laced with sarcasm, more than enough to convey his annoyance with the other man.

He barely heard House's soft, short, laugh, didn't look up to catch his brief half-smile, but he knew both were there.

"Needed to teach the newbies to stay out of my medical files; something I thought you and Cameron and Forman would have known by now. Still so gullible," House lightly mocked.

"Or just out of practice with dealing with jerks," Chase replied as he pulled his jacket out of his locker and shut the door, snapping the lock into place. "Doesn't explain why you're down here though," he said, pulling on his coat as he finally turned to look at the other man. "What do you want, House?"

The older doctor looked away briefly and tapped his cane lightly on the floor, a sure sign that whatever he was about to ask made him uncomfortable; a little fact that peeked Chase's curiosity as he waited for a response.

"Monday wasn't part of the custody agreement," House answered after a moment, "with Amber." He added for what Chase guessed was supposed to be clarification.

He waited for more, but House seemed disinclined to say anything else. "Am I supposed to know what that means?"

"I made deal with Amber. I get Wilson on Wednesdays and every other weekend…"

"Wait a minute," Chase interrupted, unable to keep the smile from creeping onto his face. "Are you saying you actually to my advice? Wow…I'm…shocked. Honored even," he said, unable to keep the teasing out of his tone.

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't pat yourself too hard on the back. Because of your so called advice I'm out a bowling partner."

Chase smirked. "That's what you're here for? You want me to take Wilson's place?"

"Do you have a problem with that?" House asked with a hopeful look on his face.

"Depends."

"On what?"

"Why me?" He asked. "I figure one time's a fluke, but now you're asking for a weekly commitment. So I'm curious. Why me?"

House shrugged. "I'm not your boss and you're not mine; lowers the chances of ulterior motives."

It also meant that any decision he made to spend time with House would be of his own free will, Chase thought as considered House's response. "Alright," he said after a beat. "Sounds like a plan."

"Good," House agreed with a curt nod. "See you, Monday." He added before turning and walking out without another word.


	2. Chapter 1

Title: Bowling Night

Author: MitchPell

Characters: House and Chase primarily.

Rating: Currently PG-13, but will probably be upgraded to R.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything; however, David Shore and Fox do. I'm just using their stuff for a little bit of non-profitable fun.

Authors Notes: Spoiler warnings for all seasons and episodes, but seasons 4 and 5 will be covered in more detail than the others. I appreciate any and all feedback. Tell me whatever you think: the good, the bad, the ok, the grammar errors, etc┘ Constructive criticism is always welcome.

Beta: Thanks to girlwithoutfear for the beta!

Summary: Bowling night wasn't part of the custody agreement.

Email:

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Chapter #1

Chase sighed as he looked up at the TV above the bar, nursing his beer as he took in the game; the Blue Devils were down one-nil against the Rangers, which was just another thing to add to his already shitty day.

It had been a long one. His first surgery had been scheduled for seven that morning. And what should have been a routine appendectomy turned into a complicated nightmare. Things had gone downhill from there, with the day ending with an emergency late that evening. He'd lost the patient.

When he finally managed to leave the hospital it had been well past eight; he was tired, not exhausted per say, at least not physically. Just wore out. Despite his day, however, or maybe because of it, he was somewhat looking forward to unwinding, knocking back a few beers, and bowling a couple of frames with┘well he wasn't sure what he'd call House. Course, that all depended on House actually showing up.

Speak of the devil; Chase thought dryly as he glanced towards the side door as it whined open and House limped in. Shaking his head, Chase turned back to the game as he finished off what was left of his beer. "You're late," he called, motioning to the bartender for another.

"So I am," House replied pleasantly, joining Chase at the bar and snatching up the fresh bottle that was placed in front of them. "Are you really that surprised?" he asked, before taking a pull from the bottle.

"No," Chase admitted as he flagged down the bartender once again. "But, I'm starting to have more sympathy for Wilson."

House rolled his eyes at that. "Are we going to bowl or do you plan to spend the night bitching?" he asked, raising his brow as he fixed Chase with his intense stare, "just so I know what to expect."

"I can't do both?"

"You can, but if I'd wanted bitching, I'd have asked Foreman or Thirteen to join me."

"And they'd have turned you down."

"True," House admitted, before shaking out two vicodin and washing them down with his beer.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Chase laughed under his breath. At this point, he was half tempted to leave. After the day he'd had, he was starting to doubt whether or not he could stand for House's personal brand of company. But he didn't feel much like going home. Not just yet; and he didn't have much in terms of an alternative.

Mind made up, Chase tossed a few bills on the bar and pushed himself up off the barstool. He then bent over to pick up his ball bag. Grabbing his beer, he gestured towards the door. "After you."

House nodded, a small smile playing on his lips as the two exited the bar through the side door, which led back into the bowling alley; Chase following House to the counter, where the older doctor rented both shoes and a lane. The place was fairly empty, with only about half the lanes in use, so they didn't have to wait. Monday wasn't a league night, nor apparently was it that popular with the non-league bowlers. If he had to guess, Chase would wager that that was the reason why House chose Mondays in the first place, less of an audience.

"So," House started as they walked the short distance to their lane and sat down at the surrounding chairs. "Who pissed in your cornflakes this evening?"

"What are you talking about?" Chase asked as he pulled his bowling shoes out of his bag and started undoing the laces of his sneakers.

"You've known me for almost four years," House replied, grunting slightly as he carefully toed off his shoes. "Plenty of time to become immune to my tardiness, and yet you're still irritated." He winced as he pulled his right leg up onto one of the chairs and started working on the bowling shoe. "Seems like a bit of an overreaction, unless you were already pissed over something else. So, what is it that's got your panties in a bunch?"

"It's nothing," Chase denied as he shoved his street shoes beneath his chair and started pulling on his wrist support. "Just a bad day at work."

"Lose a patient?" House asked as he lowered his leg back onto the floor, straightening it out as he pulled on his other shoe.

Chase's head jerked up, as he glared at his former boss. "Yeah, I did."

"Was it your fault?"

"No."

House shook his head slightly as he looked at Chase. "Then you need to let it go."

Chase barked out a laugh at that. "Yeah. This coming from the king of obsession."

"I don't obsess about dead patients, unless I don't know what killed them." He shrugged, before standing up. "Otherwise, I'd sleep worse than I already do." The statement hung between them for a moment, leaving the air thick and somewhat uncomfortable. "Now quit ruining my night by acting like a first year med student and get over it. I'm going to go find a ball."

Chase sat there for a moment, digesting House's words. They weren't exactly pearls of wisdom, nor was the message all that original. It was one of the first things you learned out of med school. You could care for your patients; you should care for your patients. But you couldn't let yourself become attached, couldn't invest yourself too deeply, or you'd never make it.

It was difficult sometimes, to detach yourself. Sometimes a particular case will hit too close to home. And it was times like that, times like today, that you needed a reminder.

Smiling quietly to himself, Chase pulled out his bowling ball.


	3. Chapter 2

Title: Bowling Night Author: MitchPell

Characters: House and Chase primarily.

Rating: Currently PG-13, but will probably be upgraded to R.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything; however, David Shore and Fox do. I'm just using their stuff for a little bit of non-profitable fun. Authors Notes: Spoiler warnings for all seasons and episodes, but seasons 4 and 5 will be covered in more detail than the others. I appreciate any and all feedback. Tell me whatever you think: the good, the bad, the ok, the grammar errors, etc... Constructive criticism is always welcome.

Beta: Thanks to girlwithoutfear for the beta!

Summary: Bowling night wasn't part of the custody agreement.

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Chapter #2

Chase choked out a laugh as he watched House roll yet another ball down the gutter. "You can't be serious."

"Sure I am," House replied jovially, as he limped back to the ball return, supporting his bad leg with his hand.

"House, you can't diagnose a brain tumor by watching a TV show. Let alone a day time drama; the acting on those things is terrible."

"Blasphemer!" House shouted across the bowling alley, drawing stares from a few of the other patrons.

"House..."

"I know it's not a definitive diagnosis," House interrupted as he picked up his ball and turned back towards their lane. "That's why I need to convince him to come in for a few tests."

Chase laughed despite himself, before taking a sip of his beer and wiping his ball down. "Yeah, good luck with that," he mocked when House returned from throwing his second ball.

"I've already tried calling the publicist, but they've quit taking my calls."

"You've called his publicist?" Chase asked in disbelief, "more than once?"

"A man's life could be at stake. Least I can do is make a few phone calls."

"What did you tell them? That based on absolutely no medical evidence, you believe that one of their actors is dying from a brain tumor? No wonder they stopped taking your calls."

"Last time I checked decreased peripheral vision counted as medical evidence."

"Decreased peripheral vision, yes; the inability to read, no."

"Shut up and bowl," House groused as he sat down, stretching his leg out and rubbing absently at his thigh.

Shaking his head in amusement, Chase stepped up and took his approach, sending the red and blue swirled ball down the lane for a clean strike. House didn't move to get up, so Chase took a seat, leaving one chair between them, and reached for his beer. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as House pulled out his prescription bottle and shook out a vicodin, which he then chased with a swig of Budweiser.

After having bowled with House for the past month, there were a few things that he'd picked up on. One was that House was a terrible bowler; the man spent more time in the gutter than anyone Chase had ever met. Part of the reason for his low average was his horrible form, but whether he couldn't or simply wouldn't change that Chase didn't know. Though he suspected it was the former.

Another thing he'd noticed was that House's leg was only good for about two games. The first game seemed to play out without much fanfare with the help of the two vicodin House popped almost as soon as he walked in the door. The second game was another story. The first five frames weren't bad, though Chase noticed his limp usually worsened around the third. It was also around that time that he started supporting his leg with his hand when he walked.

Sometimes there was a lull in the game, like now, where House simply took a break. Maybe downed another pill or two. Chase never commented during those moments, or any of the others. Experience told him House wouldn't appreciate any coddling. So he just watched, in what he hoped was a discreet manner, trying to gauge the other man's pain and whether any action was truly warranted.

"Maybe I could just kidnap him."

"Pardon," Chase coughed out, after almost choking on his beer.

"I'm sure I could find some way to slip him a sedative, drag him into the hospital..."

"House," Chase started, holding his hands up defensively, "if you're being serious, and it's sad that I can't tell, you need to stop talking. Last thing I need is to be caught up in another one of your felonies."

"Oh please. If I hadn't fired you, you'd still be willingly breaking into unsuspecting peoples' homes on a regular basis." House teased in a serious tone. "You can't help it," he continued, gesturing towards Chase for emphasis, "it's in your blood."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

House scoffed, though the corners of his mouth turned up fractionally. "Your entire country was founded as a prison camp. Being a criminal is practically innate to you people."

"You mean the British?" Chase asked, before finishing off his beer.

"What? No, the..." House stopped himself, turning away slightly as the grin stretched across his face. "You see," he said, pointing a finger at Chase, "this is why I picked you over the others."

"What, for my supposed criminal history or my sense of humor?"

"Possibly both; the verdicts still out on the sense of humor. I'll let you know as soon as the final vote comes in," House replied as he pushed himself to his feet.

"Whatever," Chase groused good-naturedly, before calling out to House as the older man awkwardly took his first throw. "Just so you know, if for some ungodly reason you do decide to kidnap this man, I'll deny any knowledge of this conversation."

"That's the Chase I know and love, unashamed to bravely run away," House mocked as he attempted to line up his second ball.

"More like, smart enough not to get involved in situations that are doomed from the start."

"Bravely ran away away," House chanted back at him.

"Well, at least I can manage to keep the ball out of the gutter," Chase shot back, wiping down his ball to prepare for his turn. "You even planning on making it out of the double digits tonight, House?"

"I realize that you're not the brightest bulb in the box, but I didn't think you were burnt out. How does comparing your intelligence to my bowling ability even constitute a comeback?"

"It doesn't," Chase replied as he waited for his ball to be returned. "But I figured since we were throwing insults..."

House gave him a pained look as he retook his seat, right hand subconsciously going back to his leg. "I think I need to retract my earlier statement. I didn't ask you because I'm not your boss. I asked you because your stupidity is endlessly entertaining."

"I'll remember that when you call me from prison." Chase replied dryly, before turning his back on House, missing the smirk on the other man's face, as he tried to pick up the spare.


	4. Chapter 3

Title: Bowling Night

Author: MitchPell

Characters: House and Chase primarily.

Rating: Currently PG-13, but will probably be upgraded to R.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything; however, David Shore and Fox do. I'm just using their stuff for a little bit of non-profitable fun. Authors Notes: Spoiler warnings for all seasons and episodes, but seasons 4 and 5 will be covered in more detail than the others. I appreciate any and all feedback. Tell me whatever you think: the good, the bad, the ok, the grammar errors, etc... Constructive criticism is always welcome.

Beta: Thanks to girlwithoutfear for the beta!

Summary: Bowling night wasn't part of the custody agreement.

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Chapter #3

"I still can't believe it," Chase continued when he returned from the bar, setting House's beer on the table as he sat down. "Anyone else would have been arrested for kidnapping and assault. At the very least. And that's if they didn't wind up killing the guy by massive overdose."

"Now that's just ridiculous," House replied with mock indignation from where he waited at the ball return. "No one else would have even noticed the initial symptoms. And then poor Brach would have died from quinine toxicity."

"No, Evan's leg would have gone numb either at home or on the way there, and he would have gone to the hospital of his own free will."

"Which would have been totally boring."

"Which would have been totally legal. I swear, I think you have to be one of the luckiest men I've ever met...diagnostically," Chase amended, mentally grimacing at the look House gave him. "I mean..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get what you're trying to say. But you should know, after four years, that luck has nothing to do with it. I'm just that awesome."

"No." Chase disagreed again as he leaned back on the hard plastic chair, taking a pull from his beer as he watched House attempt to bowl. "I've seen you be awesome. I've seen you pull brilliant diagnoses out of your ass. This was luck."

"Dr. Chase, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're jealous," House mocked as he limped back behind the auto-scorer and snatched up his beer. "Jealous," he continued at the skeptical look Chase shot him, "of the fact that I now have private access to the hottest daytime soap on the air."

"Right," Chase drawled, as he forced himself to his feet to take his turn, "because that's what this is all about. It has nothing to do with your actions or the patient and everything to do with my secret love for General Hospital." Turning his back on House, he lined up his first ball and made his approach. "That's something I've never understood," he said, grunting the last word slightly as he released the ball, earning another strike. "What is it with you and this show? Because, to be honest, I don't see the attraction."

"How can you say that?" House asked incredulously, right hand lightly holding his thigh though he remained on his feet. "Have you ever sat down and actually watched an entire episode?"

"Well...no," Chase admitted, as he waited for House to start the final frame. "But I can't say I've ever felt the desire to waste my afternoon watching a TV show about doctors of all things." Pausing for a moment, he downed the last of his beer and tossed the empty. "I get enough hospital drama at work."

"Yeah, because I'm sure things get really heated down there in the OR." House called over his shoulder before rolling his second ball.

"I'll admit that it's nothing like working for you, but it has its moments." Waiting for House to turn back to the ball return, Chase pressed, "You never did answer my question."

"That's because it was a stupid question," House pointed out as he picked up his ball, regarding Chase as if he were an idiot. "Why does anyone like anything? If we could control what we liked and disliked, we'd all choose to love morons. You know, since they seem to make up the majority of our population."

"True as that may be..."

"What? That the world is comprised of idiots?"

"That we can't control our likes and dislikes," Chase corrected with a roll of his eyes, as he picked up his ball, "you still have to know what it is about the show that you like. What it is about it that possess you to go out and buy every available season on DVD."

"You seem awfully obsessed with my obsession," House said, fixing him with a look.

"And you're trying..."

"The question is why."

"No," Chase stated adamantly as prepared to bowl his last ball. "The question is what." Spinning the ball in his hands he regarded House, "But if you want to make it a why...why are you avoiding answering?" He allowed a small smile to spread across his face. "Too embarrassing to tell? I could understand if it were, daytime dramas are rather girly."

"Not embarrassing," House relented, "just boring."

"Oh come on," Chase challenged, gathering his ball as it was spit from the return. "You don't actually expect me to believe that."

House shrugged noncommittally. "I've learned to have low expectations when it comes to others."

"Fine, don't tell me; I'll just draw my own conclusions."

"You go ahead and...whoa, whoa, whoa. What are you doing?"

"What?" Chase asked incredulously, looking up from where he was stuffing his ball into his bag.

"Who said we're finished?"

"Well...I just assumed," Chase began almost nervously, "I mean...that was two games."

"Your point is?"

"We only ever play two games."

"And that automatically means we have to stop at two?"

"No, I just," Chase paused for a moment, trying to think of something that wasn't guaranteed to piss House off, "assumed your ego could only handle two thrashings at a time."

House smirked at that. "I think it can handle one more game."

"Alright," Chase relented, pulling his ball back out of his bag, "but you can't say I didn't warn you."


End file.
